


Hiatus

by Davechicken



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-19
Updated: 2013-10-19
Packaged: 2017-12-29 21:01:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1010053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Davechicken/pseuds/Davechicken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in Paradiso!Verse, post 'Hell on Earth', but can be read as a standalone with an established relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hiatus

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ElDiablito_SF](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElDiablito_SF/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Paradiso](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1056561) by [Davechicken](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Davechicken/pseuds/Davechicken), [ElDiablito_SF](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElDiablito_SF/pseuds/ElDiablito_SF). 



They lay in silence on the much-abused bed, but it was from custom rather than need. Now that Castiel was once again an angel of the Lord, the concept of a refractory period was somewhat moot. After all, despite both of them mostly inhabiting a human frame for the majority of their time, they both had the power to will themselves back to full strength with only the barest of thoughts. The first few times had been rather... involved, shall we say. Crowley's naturally competitive side had met its equal and opposite partner in the bull-headed angel and they had gone at it hammer and tongs until it was mutually agreed that neither one of them was going to gracefully admit defeat and they called it a truce. Which still was a victory in a sense.

(Crowley had been glad. He'd never have said as much, but Cas had nearly worn out his mind and soul that last time, bliss after bliss and the knowledge they could do this literally _until the end of time_ had struck a note deep inside him and the yawning abyss of constant satisfaction had made a part of him scream out in exulted terror. This was it. This was well and truly it. There were no get-out clauses when one of them died of old age. There was no moving to Surrey and changing your name. Any break up would be shockingly public and if Castiel wanted to find him... he would always find a way. And that was horrifying beyond compare.)

Now they were smarter about it. Now they - from convention - would take some time out after their lovemaking to relax as though they needed to. In a sense they did, just not physically. Castiel's left leg poked between Crowley's, the toes of his foot scratching slowly over the fine Egyptian cotton sheets. It made a pleasingly grating sound which shouldn't have been sexy and yet somehow was. Crowley smiled and listened to it, feeling the gentle flex of tendon and muscle between his calves. 

Words sprang up in his throat - desperate to come out - and died in voiceless exhalations. 'I love you's and 'You're perfect's and 'I'm so glad you love me back's and 'Don't ever leave me's and 'How in the hell are you so sexy's. They bubbled up in his chest, fierce and proud and hurting, and yet he couldn't say them. He couldn't say them because he was afraid to. He was afraid that the endless sarcasm that he couldn't quite remove from his voice turning the words into a parody of the real meaning behind them. He was afraid of the words not being enough to convey what he really felt, either, so they licked up to his lips and made his skin tingle and his throat hurt. He _ached_ with it, though. This love. He ached in a way that hurt more than any number of years of hellish torture. That had just been pain. Pain you could ignore. 

But he didn't need to say them, because Cas knew. Those too-blue eyes fixed on his and in them Crowley saw infinite compassion. In them Crowley saw millennia of experience and love. Crowley envied his angel the way he saw the world: no matter what was thrown at him, Cas still saw everything with the childlike wonder of innocence. No matter what sins Crowley had committed - and he had done most of the cardinal ones plus some secondary and tertiary ones for good measure - Cas saw them all and forgave. It was humbling to be the subject of such deep scrutiny, and he felt laid bare and raw before him. Cas knew. Cas knew it all. Not omniscience - no, that was for God alone - but enough that Crowley knew he didn't need to dissemble or lie. His angel reached out a warm hand and laid it across his cheek, thumb tugging at the corner of his mouth and making him smile despite himself.

The demon closed his eyes and just focussed on the sensation. A heavy, pleasant blanket lay over everything, muting it into subtle heat. The pad near his lips tugged against the permanent whiskery skin, and Crowley could feel every little whorl of Cas' fingerprint. If he tried hard enough, he would be able to draw the swirls through the air with will-o'-the-wisp trails, then draw the patterns of his own fingers and merge the two into a dancing ball of light. The thought appealed to him, but he couldn't quite do it. Still, he smiled wider and he felt the joy in his angel's touch as he did.

"I heard about the new standing orders," Cas said eventually, breaking the silence in a way Crowley didn't expect.

"Which ones? The ones about no more references to the unexpected Spanish Inquisition?"

The demon opened his eyes and saw Cas smiling back at him. It was gloriously radiant in a way not wholly limited to the divine grace suffusing through his vessel, nor the decidedly attractive vessel itself. It was curious, too. Curious in a way no other angel ever seemed to be, like Cas found every little thing about creation to be fascinating. Even things like paperclips and bees.

"The one where the Winchesters are off limits."

"That's not entirely accurate."

Cas' head tilted, his hair dragging over the pillow and sticking up in every which direction. Crowley wanted to grab a hold of it and feel the strands and the way they resisted, still part of him even though they tried so hard to break free. He wanted to tug his head back and bare that sharp slope of his throat and kiss and bite it. He wanted to feel Cas swallowing under his tongue, the breath catching and the thrum of blood through his veins. He wanted to make his angel _want_.

Instead he turned and kissed Cas' palm, then stole his tongue out to lick along the furrow of his life-line.

"What I said was--" he nipped at the thick flesh at the base of Cas' thumb, "--that any demon who knew what was good for them--" the scrape of his front teeth towards the thinner flesh of his wrist "--would stay clear of the Winchesters--" a tiny bite, worrying close to the throb of blood through his veins "--and that they had my blessing in either fleeing for their lives, or dying miserably at their hands..." he closed his mouth around the tender skin and sucked slow and hard, gratified by the hiss of pleasure it drew from his lover's lips.

"It was very sweet of you." Cas leaned forwards and kissed his temple, and Crowley knew Cas understood the underlying message in his satanic proclamation. It would have been hypocritical of him not to do something, considering the brothers Winchester had eventually stopped complaining that Cas brought him 'home' to their bunker on a regular basis. 

And as much as he would deny it, Crowley enjoyed the times he spent watching TV with them, or eating unhealthy but hellishly addictive fast food, or occasionally throwing them a bone when it came to the latest case. It just sped things up a little, because they'd work it out anyway, and he never really told them anything outright. And never anything he personally had a hand in. So it was just using them to eliminate the competition, really.

He lifted his head from Cas' wrist. "It's just business sense." He pulled Cas' arm so he could kiss down the inside, towards the crease where his elbow bent his arm.

Cas mumbled in disagreement, but he didn't push any further. He propped his head up on his free arm, and submitted to Crowley's attentions. The solid weight of his chest and the little bullets of his nipples sliding against Crowley as he moved. Something about his angel made Crowley want to do this properly. Not just... sex... but everything. Crowley knew how to pull pleasure from the nervous system of any gender or persuasion, but it was the limbic system he craved in Cas. He wanted to fuck his heart, not his body. However he'd done it, Cas had stroked deep into the long-buried romantic core that Crowley had thought was dead and the bones burned to ash... and all Crowley wanted to do was give Castiel everything he craved before he even knew he wanted it.

"Thank you, anyway." The tone was utterly sincere, but Castiel had a way of being just as sarcastic as he was without it ever colouring the tone of his voice. Crowley loved that about him. Loved knowing his angel was as much of a bastard underneath as he was, and maybe even more so because he did it without airing his dirty laundry in public.

"For you - my precious dove - anything." His amber eyes gleamed in the muted light from the bedside lamp. 

It was a good job they had soundproofed their room. It was well past the Winchesters' bedtime, and Crowley knew the time of quiet touching was about to end with a bang.


End file.
